All posts for the month June, 2018

Another month, another wrap up. Throughout June I read 10 books (bringing my total for the year so far up to 62). Here are some thoughts on each of them, in the order I read them.

Whistle in the Dark by Emma Healey

[ ⭐ ⭐ ] One of my most anticipated releases of the year, this novel had a fantastic concept and was indeed very readable, with a decent amount of intrigue to keep the pages turning. I found, however, that the book lost its way by trying to be too many things at once. What could have been a great character study about the bond between mothers and daughters, and recovery from trauma, was hampered by a mediocre mystery with very little plot progression, out of place flirtation with the supernatural, and a very underwhelming outcome.

Partners in Crime by Agatha Christie

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] I love Tommy and Tuppence. The dynamic between them is fantastic, and their snappy dialogue is some of the best around. I adored the whole structure and concept of this book. It’s technically a series of short stories, with each one focussing on its own case, as the sleuths seek to build a reputation for their new agency and hone their skills. The stories are, however, joined very nicely by a couple of threads that run throughout. Some are sinister, some are downright fun, but all are as clever and well thought-out as you’d expect from the Queen of Mystery. It’s also playfully meta, with the sleuths being big fans of crime fiction, and drawing on the styles of famous detectives for inspiration (including Poirot himself!).

Postal Volume 3 by Bryan Hill

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] It had been a while since I read volumes 1 & 2 of this graphic novel series, but I got drawn back into the dark and twisted world of Eden right away. I’m still loving how interesting and well developed the characters are, and the general direction the series is going.

The Surface Breaks by Louise O’Neill

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] In this reimagining of The Little Mermaid, O’Neill sticks very closely to the original Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, but reframes it with a feminist slant. It highlights the toxicity of patriarchy; the importance of being heard within society; the danger of trying to change yourself to appease others; and the frivolity of a culture that is obsessed with physical beauty. There’s enough that is familiar for it to feel nostalgic, and yet enough that is new to bring a whole new dimension to a tale we’ve all grown up with. The simplicity of the prose reflects the timeless quality of fairy tales, with real-world references and a breathless conclusion both very well-pitched.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] I studied a few Shakespeare plays back in the day, but this is the first time I’ve picked one up purely for pleasure – and I loved it! The richness of the language and playfulness of the rhythm are, of course, wonderful. The story is lots of fun too, and though the final act didn’t engage me quite as much, I could tell the humour of the scene would translate much better on stage. I’m excited to explore more Shakespeare now!

The Water Cure by Sophie Mackintosh

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] The concept of this book is fantastic: Three sisters have been raised in isolation by their parents, taught to fear men and a toxicity that plagues the outside world, exposure to which would mean certain death. It has a wonderfully unsettling and ethereal atmosphere throughout, and I admired that Mackintosh held back from handing us all the answers, reflecting the limited scope of knowledge afforded to the sisters, and establishing a tense, claustrophobic feeling, full of doubt and mystery. The water motif running throughout the imagery is well implemented, and I loved its exploration of family, loyalty, manipulation, and sisterhood; being, to me, a battle cry for women to resist the status quo.

The Skeleton’s Holiday by Leonora Carrington

[ ⭐ ⭐ ] I’m a big fan of Carrington’s surrealist artwork, but it seems surrealist writing simply doesn’t work quite as well for me. The first story, White Rabbits, was brilliantly creepy, and The Debutante very striking in its sinister absurdity, but the other 5 stories did nothing for me, sadly, and I don’t think they’ll stay with me.

The History of Bees by Maja Lunde

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This is an incredibly ambitious novel that manages to be an intimate tale of family, whilst also looking outwards to comment on the future of humanity at large, by weaving together three different narratives set in different times and locations. This means it is at once historical fiction, contemporary, and a futuristic dystopian; and yet somehow, Lunde deftly brings everything together into one coherent narrative that comments on our vital bond with nature. She draws parallels between humans and bees in particular, with each of the three protagonists invested heavily in the processes of beekeeping and pollination. In doing so, she reminds us that, as with the best hives, we must work for the collective good if we are to survive.

The Victorian Chaise-Longue by Marghanita Laski

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This was a brilliantly ambiguous and claustrophobic little read. For me, it threw up fascinating ideas about the fine line between ecstasy and ruin, the toxicity of being supressed, and the frivolousness of time; how in one era, a woman’s actions could be her making, but in another, they could spell her very ruin. With subtlety, Laski also shrewdly questions just how much progress women had made in gaining autonomy over their bodies, minds and actions by the time of the book’s writing in the 1950s, despite comparative improvements over the past; a theme still relevant to this day.

My Girls: A Lifetime with Carrie and Debbie by Todd Fisher

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This is the memoir of Todd Fisher; brother of Carrie Fisher, and son of Debbie Reynolds. He recounts his family’s stranger-than-fiction life in a personable, anecdotal manner that is very endearing. It’s full of fun and warmth, though doesn’t shy away from the darkness that visited their lives, also touching on Carrie’s struggles with bipolar and addiction; Debbie’s ailing health, and repeated betrayals at the hands of men; and his own heartache and grief, culminating, tragically, in the deaths of both his ‘girls’ just a day apart in 2016. It offers a real, bittersweet insight into a uniquely bizarre Hollywood upbringing, and shares, with fervour and honesty, the love he had for his sister and mother.

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It was a very good reading month overall, with quite the run of four star reads, which isn’t really something to complain about!

Sometimes it can feel like a book and its film adaptation are singing from different hymn sheets (which isn’t always necessarily a bad thing), but with Rosemary’s Baby, writer-director Roman Polanski clearly respected and shared Ira Levin’s original vision. Indeed, it is perhaps one of the most faithful page to screen conversions I’ve yet seen, in terms of both plot and tone.

As with the novel, I found Rosemary entirely endearing as a heroine, and loved her narrative arc; descending from a charming everywoman of the 60s to a determined mother, desperate to save her child – and her own sanity. She carries the entire thing, made possible by Mia Farrow’s strong performance and enigmatic screen presence, which mean we are with her every step of the way. Amidst the rest of the cast, Ruth Gordon also stood out as a highlight, putting in a great turn as the unnervingly eccentric Minnie Castevet.

I was thrilled they kept the horror very much on the psychological side of things, never resorting to jump scares or cheap gore, and focussing instead on a feeling of claustrophobia closing in on Rosemary. It’s testament to how well tension can be built, and how quietly affecting a story can be, when the focus is put firmly on the mental wellbeing of our protagonist; when the true horror is left to the power of our imagination.

It’s understandable why the film has become a classic of its genre, and why it pleases both committed cinemagoers and avid fans of the book alike.

I saw this tag a little while ago on Jenna @ Bookmark Your thoughts’ blog. I thought it looked like fun, so couldn’t resist getting involved. Let’s just jump right in.

Isn’t it pretty?

PHASE ONE: INITIAL ATTRACTION – A BOOK YOU BOUGHT BECAUSE OF THE COVER

Vixen by Rosie Garland has one of my favourite covers of all time. In fairness, I thought the blurb sounded very intriguing as well, but it was undoubtedly the cover that first grabbed me.

PHASE TWO: FIRST IMPRESSIONS – A BOOK YOU GOT BECAUSE OF ITS SUMMARY

There’s always a slightly dubious feeling when someone already famous turns their hand to novel writing, but the moment I saw mention of historical fiction inspired by true events, Icelandic mythology, and the power of storytelling in the blurb for The Sealwoman’s Gift by Sally Magnusson, I knew I had to check it out. I’m excited to give it a go!

PHASE THREE: SWEET TALK – A BOOK WITH GREAT WRITING

When I think about Burial Rites by Hannah Kent, it’s the beauty of the prose and the wonderful atmosphere it creates that always come to mind first. Funnily enough, it’s also historical fiction set in Iceland and inspired by true events. I actually read it whilst on holiday in Iceland during a bitingly cold, snowy winter, so that certainly helped to enhance the reading experience as well!

PHASE FOUR: FIRST DATE – THE FIRST BOOK OF A SERIES THAT MADE YOU WANT TO PICK UP THE REST OF THE SERIES

I recently read Binti by Nnedi Okorafor. It’s a sci-fi novella that explores themes of cultural identity and racial prejudice. I enjoyed what it had to say a lot, and though things wrapped up a little neatly, there are two other books in the series, so I’m excited to see if we’ll get to dive a little deeper.

PHASE FIVE: LATE NIGHT PHONE CALLS – A BOOK THAT KEPT YOU UP ALL NIGHT

Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House was so absorbingly atmospheric that I simply didn’t want to put it down. Plus, there are some deliciously creepy moments that may keep you awake for other reasons.

PHASE SIX: ALWAYS ON MY MIND – A BOOK YOU COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT

I don’t think a book has ever haunted my thoughts as much as Bird Box by Josh Malerman. I read it about two-and-a-half years ago, and I still think about how intense and unsettling it was on a regular basis.

PHASE SEVEN: GETTING PHYSICAL – A BOOK THAT YOU LOVE THE WAY IT FEELS

I don’t have many of them as yet, but The Penguin Clothbound Classics are very tactile. They’re sturdy naked hardbacks with a rough, textured feel.

Some examples of the Clothbound Classics.

PHASE EIGHT: MEETING THE PARENTS – A BOOK YOU WOULD RECOMMEND TO YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS

Most of my family and friends aren’t big readers, so I would probably recommend something accessible and universally relatable regardless of your level of interest in reading – but something that is also timely, with an emotional pull to it. So, perhaps something like My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher, or A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness.

PHASE NINE: THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE – A BOOK OR SERIES YOU KNOW YOU WILL RE-READ MANY TIMES IN THE FUTURE

[ insert generic Harry Potter answer ]

PHASE TEN: SHARE THE LOVE – WHO DO YOU TAG?

I wasn’t tagged, so I’ll leave it open to anyone who wants to get involved. I’d love to see your answers though, so pingback here if you do it so I can check out your post.

Okay, this adaptation isn’t technically a film, it’s a three-part BBC mini-series. BUT, it has pretty lavish production values, and I binge watched it, which gave it the feel of a film. So, I’m going to bend the rules slightly so I can talk about it here.

I was instantly drawn in by the stylish design and direction, which were very successful in capturing the moody tone of intrigue, and the idea of something sinister lurking beneath the surface, that pervade much of Christie’s work.

I thought it was well acted by all, and the implementation of flashbacks did well to deliberately confuse. It reflected the complexity of the family dynamic, and the disorientating feeling of not knowing who you can trust. As such, it confuses in a way that gets its hooks into you, making you all the more determined to see how everything plays out, and how the pieces of the puzzle fit together. This makes the final reveals all the more satisfying.

Speaking of reveals, however, it’s certainly not an entirely faithful adaptation, and Christie purists may be disgruntled to learn that the identity of whodunnit has been changed. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about this decision. In some respects, it seems odd, as whodunnit is kind of the whole point of stories in this genre. But in other ways, I felt some changes to the narrative, particularly the climax and conclusion, worked better in a visual context, and it did make me admire the production team for their boldness. They did, indeed, play off reader expectations in clever ways throughout, striking an interesting balance between familiarity and surprises; just when you think you know where something is going, they catch you off guard. It can be argued that it’s a valid way of putting a fresh spin on a classic story, whilst still honouring the source material’s concept and tone.

All-in-all, I think it’s well worth checking out if you’re a Christie fan; albeit with the prior knowledge that things won’t necessarily play out as you’d expect. Think of it like an homage, more than an adaptation, and you may well get drawn in.